Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Fig covers her mouth giggling. “I may eat there a lot more than I should given my proximity.”
“But you’re eating for two now,” I jest.
“Believe me, I’ve been leaning on that excuse a whole lot.”
More laughter, me shaking my head. “When I get back to Burly, Williams and I are working on a prototype for a project we came up with. We need a functional model before we try to present it to an investor.”
“An investor, you say? Do you already have one lined up?”
“I think. My dad has an old high school friend in Idaho he wants to hook us up with. He seems hopeful that he’ll like our project and give us the funding we need to get it out there.”
Fig smiles, leaning in on one arm. “Already deep into a project with Williams. I shouldn't be surprised you’re so quick to get involved with him again.”
I cross my arms. “What do you mean by that?”
“You two were always so close. You claim to be just good friends but you can’t be oblivious to the chemistry between the two of you, right?”
“We’re just friends, Fig. And that friendship is why we work so well together.”
Although the chemistry is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Partially because everyone feels a need to point it out to us.
“Sure thing. Whatever you say.”
I shake my head, visibly annoyed.
“If things don’t work out with this investor, don’t be afraid to give me or Lemon a call. Lemon’s husband, Anchor, does some angel investor stuff himself. He might be willing to back your project.”
“Thank you, Fig. I’ll keep you in mind, but we’ll try this guy first.”
“Sure thing. Don’t be a stranger, Windy. It’s nice to have you back within a ten-mile radius.”
“You too, Fig. Nice place you got here,” I say, looking around. “Maybe I’ll come by sometime when I need a new outfit.”
“Literally what I’m here for.”
I take the free bottle of water and head out, sipping it. I need to cool myself down as much as I can before facing Williams. I figure resisting temptation is like building muscle. The more I do it, the easier it’ll become.
But the desire to just give in and chase what I want is strong.
Our little workshop is a cabin on the edge of the Rowdy property. The family owns a huge swath of land for their cattle to graze on, and on the extremities, they’ve constructed little cabins. Some of the boys have moved into them to say they aren’t living at home anymore, but Papa Rowdy has been happy to keep their beds in the patriarchal home ready. A lot of them spend time at both, the bonds of family strong and keeping them from ever straying too far.
Being far from the main house also has the benefit of letting us not worry about the noise we’re making. Tinkering and screwing with engines isn’t the most silent thing in the world, and now Williams and I can do it guilt-free whenever we want.
I roll up to the cabin we agreed to meet at, and he’s already there. I step out of my car, hoisting up my backpack of things. We’re going to burn the midnight oil on this, so it’s sort of like the sleepovers we had back in middle school.
God, that we didn’t give in back then when teenage hormones were boiling at their hottest is especially amazing. Even in the main house with Will’s parents one room over, that shouldn’t have stopped curious, horny teenagers.
We’re adults now. We have control of ourselves. If we didn’t give in then, we’re clearly not going to give in now.
I walk up to Williams standing at the door, looking at me with that slight, sheepish grin of his. “Hey there,” he says, ushering me inside and closing the door behind me.
There’s something different between us this time. It’s not the same energy I usually feel when I hang out with Williams. I drop my backpack on the sofa. “Ready to get to work?”
He sighs. “You’re looking stunning as usual, Windy.”
I flutter my eyelashes, turning red. I’m not dressed in any special way, just my usual grease-stained jeans and t-shirt, like I’m about to go into the garage and work.
Because that’s what I expected.
But that doesn’t seem to be what Williams is expecting. “Uh, thank you?” I say, breaking eye contact.
It’s not that his compliment felt disingenuous. No, quite the opposite. It’s just that Williams had never commented on my appearance unprompted before. If I asked him if something looked right? Yeah, he’d give me his opinion. But now?
The silence. The awkwardness. The way he looks at me. It’s all so intense.
“You really make work clothes work,” he says.
I giggle. Even during this awkward moment, he can’t help but make me laugh. “What’s gotten into you? Don’t we have a project we should be working on?”